


Set Adrift

by Morgana



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s06e15 The French Mistake, M/M, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-25
Updated: 2013-05-25
Packaged: 2017-12-12 06:57:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/808630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean really isn't fond of this alternate universe shit</p>
            </blockquote>





	Set Adrift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Forhimxx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forhimxx/gifts).



Dean hated it here. There was no Castiel or Bobby to help them out, or even just hang out and have a beer with, no Baby to take him away from it all, no guns in his hands or knives under his pillow to help him feel safe, nothing that he'd gotten used to having. There weren't even any cheeseburgers - at least, not for him, apparently. He'd tried to get one and some little dab of a girl had walked over and snatched it out his hands, then lectured him for ten minutes straight on his diet. Like he'd ever had to worry about that!  
  
Worst of all, though, there was no Sam. Not the way there should be, anyway. Oh, sure, he was there with him, and that helped keep him from going completely fucking looney, but it wasn't enough. There was no presence in the back of his head, no sense of his brother and mate, just the empty ache of his own thoughts with nothing there to help guide him. He'd forgotten what it was like to be this alone, this lonely, but then he didn't think it had sucked this much before because now he knew what he was missing. It was like the difference between being born blind or spending half your life with sight before you lost it, although in his case he'd lost more than just his sight. He'd lost half of himself, and he wasn't exactly sure how to manage without it. For the first time in fifteen years, Dean was alone in his head, and he hated it.  
  
Almost as much as he hated  _her_. Fake Ruby. More like Genuine Bitch.   
  
She was trying to take Sam from him. There was no doubt about that, no with her parading around in those short, tight dresses, her hair all loose and tousled like she'd just gotten out of bed, her lips red and plush and just begging for a kiss. Realistically, he supposed, she was trying to take Jared away from Jensen, and it sure looked like she'd succeeded there. Dean had woken up last night to find Sam gone, probably off exploring the house, and he'd decided to do a little research on these other selves, and he wasn't too happy with what he'd found.  
  
There had been pictures. Lots of them, with Sam hanging all over him and him laughing about it, or shots of one of them talking while the other just watched with a look that Dean realized. It was the look that said the person they were staring at was their whole world. There were interviews, too, talking about dogs and morning routines and living together. And if that wasn't a fucking couple, then he didn't know what was. They might not be like him and Sammy, bonded since they really knew what it was, but there was something there, he could see that. Or at least, there used to be.  
  
The pictures and stories had changed recently, it seemed. There were pictures of Sam with Fake Ruby hanging on him, looking up at him with that predatory gleam in her eye, like a cat watching a mouse, but he didn't seem to see it. He just smiled at her in every shot, and as the pictures went from street shots to wedding portraits, that empty space in the back of Dean's head felt emptier than ever. He wasn't all that surprised to see his own wedding pictures show up a little later, him in a tux with a woman he didn't recognize that had a smile that didn't reach her hard, flinty eyes. If Jensen was anything like him, he'd tried to strike back and show just how much of a fuck he didn't care - and it looked like he'd succeeded about as well as Dean would have in the same position.  
  
He closed out of the computer and lay back down on the couch, tucking his hands under his head while he waited for Sam to come back. Like always, he reached out to feel for him, but there was nothing there. And Jesus, this was so much harder than he ever would've thought it would be. If this was what it had been like for Dad after Mom died, this constant reminder that the other half of himself was gone, Dean was surprised he hadn't eaten a bullet years ago. But then, his mate wasn't dead. He was right there in front of him, and he wasn't sure if that was better or worse.  
  
When they'd first figured out what the hell was going on, he'd thought this world wasn't half bad. Okay, so they were fruity actors on a stupid TV show that basically made a joke of their entire lives, but they were still together, and that was all that mattered. He'd liked it even more when he'd found out there was no magic here. No magic meant no angels and better still, no demons. That was until he'd reached for Sammy and found out that no magic also meant no bonding. No secret amusement when he said something funny, no warning crackle when he was stepping on toes, and no constant warm bubble of love.  
  
They needed to get home, like, yesterday. Because he wasn't sure how much longer he could take hanging out in this royally fucked-up universe before he grabbed Sammy and one of those hacked-up versions of his Baby and went looking for a way to fix them both.


End file.
